


Reflection

by JoansGlove



Series: Hierarchy of Needs [3]
Category: Wentworth (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-11
Updated: 2015-10-07
Packaged: 2018-04-20 06:16:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4776713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoansGlove/pseuds/JoansGlove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vera has to make some challenging decisions</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to the Duchess

Standing on Joan’s doorstep Vera thought back to her strange invitation: “You should come over tonight; I think we should discuss your development opportunities further.”  
Had Joan seen her rebuke Fletch for staring openly at her chest? She hoped so! He had been so stunned when she’d barked at him “Eyes front and centre, Mr. Fletcher!” – The subsequent rush of exhilaration had translated into a throbbing in her so recently violated nether regions. Vera’s thoughts turned back to the present and she shuddered with apprehension and excitement at what tonight would bring, Joan could have anything planned for her…. 

The door opened “Come through, we are in the courtyard.”  
Joan was bare legged and barefoot against the heat, her hair held in a relaxed chignon by a chased silver clip. At the sight of Vera her temperature rose uncomfortably high. She had only been taunting Vera this evening with a facsimile of her amateurish fantasies of them together but she hadn’t been able to shake the throb it had started in her clit; it had built through the remainder of the shift until she was prowling round her office like a bitch in heat when Vera arrived to report in. Well Vera had had hers earlier, now it was time for her to take some of what she needed. She felt a little unsteady as she led Vera through to the open glass doors.

Joan’s dress, the sheerest, shortest sheath of gathered black silk fell front and back from a wide band encircling her pale neck, her muscular shoulders were completely bare; her fair skin, unmarked by the sun shimmered through the diaphanous material. Vera was stunned by the sheer beauty of Joan; her body responding instantly to the sight. She could not believe that the imposing woman she saw every day in her severe uniform and architectural bun was the same sensual, scented, gossamer clad goddess who was currently inviting her into the inner sanctum. Lips parted slightly, Vera looked for the pearlescent lines on the backs of Joan’s thighs as she followed her through the dimly lit room.

“You certainly sent Mr. Fletcher away with a flea in his ear earlier, what was all that about?”  
“I finally applied a bit of backbone to the situation. I have you to thank for that.” Vera smiled up appreciatively at Joan.  
They were standing side by side in the inner courtyard and Joan was encouraging Vera to finish her second glass of champagne punch - to celebrate today’s achievements - whilst they allegedly admired the display of tropical plants. The late night air was still oppressively warm, barely cooled by the light breeze or the small fountain that gurgled against the background of classical guitar; tinted lamps and floor lights reflected them on all sides of the glass box, repeating their images into infinity against the faint outlines of interior décor.  
The alcohol combined with Joan’s perfumed presence so close to her was beginning to make Vera sweat. She wore a plain white man’s dress shirt belted at the waist by a waspie of deep carmine coloured watered silk; her coltish legs disappeared into blocky, high-heeled biker boots, festooned with straps and shiny buckles. They had been an impulse buy on the way home tonight; the sight of them in the shop window had sent a pulse to her clit and she knew she had to have them, blow the expense and thank god for late night shopping! Although now she was regretting wearing them in this stifling heat - even if they did add four inches to her height and make her feel strangely powerful. She had piled her hair into a loose top knot for coolness but all she had succeeded in doing was making the top of her head unbearably hot too!  
They were standing close enough for Vera to feel Joan’s body radiating animal heat and Vera found that with her new height advantage she could look at Joan’s bosom whilst pretending to enjoy the flora. She thought she could make out the rosy contrast of Joan’s nipples against the marble sheen visible through the thin dress; she fought an irresistible urge to touch them, caress them, lick them. Blinking rapidly she struggled to deny the thoughts any more fuel before she gave herself away. Joan surreptitiously cast glances at Vera’s reflection noting with satisfaction that Vera was finding it hard not to stare at her breasts, their fullness clearly outlined by the gathered silk; Joan found that she too was having trouble staying focused as a vibration built in her cunt and forced its way through her body.

Mentally shaking herself Joan fingered the waspie. “Who put this on you, Vera?”  
“I did it myself… did I do it wrong?” Shirt and corset slid round as she twisted left and right trying to see her mistake and the last of her punch slopped down her wrist and soaked into her rolled cuff.  
“Not so much wrong, more inexperienced. Here, let me….” Joan conveyed the empty glass to a safe place and spun Vera round so she could begin to unlace her. The cotton shirt stuck to Vera’s damp skin where the waspie had loosened off and clung to her back as Joan’s hand pushed against her for leverage, causing Vera to momentarily lose her balance in her new boots. “You must be so hot, Vera. This should help.” She deftly pulled the shirt-tails through the gap between silk and skin, knocking Vera’s arms away from her body and up into the air as she lifted the covering off her unresisting guest. A bare naked back stretched above the dark material whilst tiny black knickers partially covered the peach-like rear below it. Glancing at Vera’s reflection she murmured something unintelligible to herself. She wouldn’t allow herself to be aroused so quickly by Vera’s new found licentiousness. “Do you always dress this provocatively when you visit a colleague, Vera?” She muttered thickly.  
“You liked me in my belt so I bought this specially … to accentuate my waist. You see how receptive I am to your suggestions….?” Vera felt bold enough to say this now that she had pleased Joan but her hands fluttered uncertainly trying to cover her breasts.  
The comment was not lost on Joan, her mouth curled at its corners as she imagined Vera in a corsetry shop - all embarrassment and virgin lust - but what initiative! “Oh, and it will, Vera, it will! Just give me a moment.” 

Leaving Vera standing reflected in the window panes Joan entered the house and retrieved a pair of soft leather gloves from the sideboard. Vera followed Joan’s movements with interest, smiling to herself as she watched the long limbed woman exit the room sliding her hands and forearms into tight fitting gloves, small diamonds of skin disappearing as delicate buttons were fastened at the wrists. The thought of Joan’s hands in their soft leather caressing her body, maybe even correcting it again made her nipples stiffen, her breath quickened as she thought back to how wet she’d become when Joan had whipped her in her office. 

“Despite the heat I’m not about to damage my fingers on these …’fashion’ laces.” Efficiently redistributing the satin ribbon with practiced dexterity Joan set about pulling the stays into place. “Always pull inward from upper and lower lace holes, Vera, repeating where necessary - that way you achieve the best results.” She knew they would stretch and slip over the course of the night but that couldn’t be helped.  
As the corset began to tighten Vera ogled her new shape, how tiny her waist was! Her hips flared out as never before and in admiring her new figure she threw back her shoulders, no longer worried about disguising her small chest. The last couple of tugs on the laces made her stumble, bambi-like; her new boots the culprits again but god they made her feel sexy….  
Tying off the ribbons Joan stepped back and admired her handiwork; her mouth twitched at how horribly bewitching this woman was. “Look at your reflection, Vera, turn around and look at what you are.” 

Vera did. She looked like one of those women on the front of men’s magazines! She spun with her arms out like a child in their first snow fall, drunk on the transformation. She spun revelling in their reflections, staring up at the swirl of stars above, losing her balance. She stumbled backwards into Joan who wrapped her in long arms and slowed her momentum, coming to rest facing the darkest room. The two women were clearly mirrored in the dim glass; Joan cradled Vera, holding her steady as they leaned into each other, their skin was blistering hot where it touched. The pressure of Vera against her nipples, thighs and pubic mound were driving Joan to distraction - it took all her resolve to resist the urge to throw Vera to the floor and ride her right now on the tiles. She reminded herself that the denial would make what was to come all the more delectable.

Using the softest touch Joan caressed Vera’s damp temple with the backs of her curled fingers, floating them down her cheek before tracing the tight leather across her slack mouth. Vera sank back further into Joan’s searing embrace watching as her hand drew sensuous trails across her body, trails so hot they should be glowing on her skin.  
Joan bent her lips to Vera’s ear. “Look at you.” She drawled. ”Look at how far you have come. Would you have ever dared to wear this…” Joan’s gloved palm slid across hot skin to fondle the corset “… or these …” she rubbed her ankle against Vera’s boot “… six months ago? Could you have ever imagined the pleasure they could bring to you …. bring to others?” The words smouldered into Vera’s skin; Joan’s dark reflected stare burnt into her glassy eyes.

She clamped her hands over Vera’s breasts; the hard nipples digging into her palms through the impossibly thin leather, compressing them into Vera’s delicate frame. Joan thought Vera had the most beautiful breasts – like perfectly scaled down versions of Krista Lane’s – she salivated at the thought of using her mouth on them. Easing off, she confined each small peak in a cage of fingers and thumbs. Very deliberately Joan drew her fingertips together squeezing the malleable tissue, causing furrows in the delicate skin till Vera gasped in pain; maintaining the pressure Joan extended her arms, pulling out each breast from Vera’s rib cage. She increased her grip as her fingers slid toward Vera’s nipples, listening intently as Vera’s breathing became harsher - interrupted by a sharp intake of breath as Joan ground each knot of tawny gristle in her leather vice. Vera’s thighs clenched, twitching her buttocks into Joan’s receptive, aching groin as the pain translated into a jolt of pure pleasure to her clit. Another jolt hit her as Joan’s pinching fingers finally slipped off the tips of her abused nipples, only to return with the lightest of fluttering motions, soothing the mistreated skin.  
Cradling Vera’s left breast Joan elevated it, reaching across to rub the long nipple and crinkled areola with the fingers of her right hand. Vera moaned through her nose at the gentle friction between the tough, wrinkled skin and the smooth not-quite skin calmed and inflamed in equal measure. 

Joan spent a long time teasing Vera’s breasts, fondling, stroking, squeezing, rubbing, pinching them – calming herself into a meditative bliss as Vera became hotter and more incoherent.


	2. Chapter 2

Weak at the knees Vera felt herself peeled away from Joan’s damp body and guided into a pile of cushions laid out against the side of the fountain. Falling back on bent legs, she found she was staring up at the hem of Joan’s dress; it was plastered to her body where Vera had shimmied and writhed against her, outlining the strong curves of her lean physique. Joan followed her line of sight. “You’re surprised I would wear anything so immodest aren’t you? Technically it’s a respectable cocktail dress but on me, well…” She turned up the hem at her ivory hip as if inspecting the quality of the construction. ”It comes with an under-slip to prevent blushes but I’m just too hot to bear it tonight.” She eyed Vera wondering if she would pick up on the double meaning.  
Vera’s eyes skittered down the magnificently creamy thighs and back up to the hem “My gran would have called it a fanny pelmet!“  
“Ha! Would she indeed?” Joan laughed. “A fanny pelmet!” she grinned, genuinely tickled “…and what would you call it, Vera?” Her eyes twinkled in amusement as she lowered herself to her knees amidst the cushions, back against the fountain; pushing the hem between her thighs as she did so, ensuring that the silk was held taut between crotch and neck.  
“Breath-taking….!“ She fingered the fabric, pulling it tight over Joan’s breast, the erect nipple following the downward direction of its veil as the heavy orb flattened under the strain. Joan had to bite down hard on her lip to stop from moaning out loud, her body was instantly crying out for attention. She wanted hot hands, hot mouths, hot cunts sliding over her, into her, biting, pinching, slapping, sucking … invading her very essence …. but not Vera’s. No, not Vera. Not until she had evolved sufficiently to prove her entitlement.

Raising her other hand Vera looked to Joan for permission to touch but was denied with the slightest shake of her head although the message she read in Joan’s eyes told her a different story; she satisfied herself with concentrating on slowly pulling the folds of strong silk back and forth across the tip of Joan’s obviously sensitive tit. The black silk plucked at the jutting pink post causing silvery ripples in Joan's cunt that intensified into a tremor coursing the length of her inflamed being; she threw her head back and thrust out her chest, groping either side for the scrolled marble lip of the fountain wall. Beads of sweat threatened at her hairline and the hollow of her back as she fought to maintain control in the face of this uncharacteristic familiarity she was allowing Vera. 

Vera’s skin burned with desire at the nearness of Joan’s breasts, the urge to lift that damn dress and take one in her mouth was so strong that her lips, tongue and clit pulsed in time to her thundering heartbeat. She eagerly bent forward, the corset cutting into her middle as she let her hot breath tumble into Joan’s cleavage. Tilting her head to the left she exhaled slowly over Joan’s unattended breast, her breath wilting the sheer fabric making it cling to the thrusting nipple it shielded. Joan felt her cunt, trapped in its confines of compressed flesh, turn to liquid fire; pushing Vera away she unfolded her impossibly long legs and slowly stretched them out in front of her, pale thighs parted to relieve the pressure on her swollen parts but unable to quell the yearning quiver in her muscles as she fought to regain her breath. Her scent rose up on super-heated air, the rich heady vapour infusing the space between her and Vera with sex. 

Vera sat there looking confused & lustful – had Joan not wanted her to tease her nipples? It had certainly felt that way; why else would she have allowed it? Her fingers found the buckles of her boots, warm and silky smooth beneath her touch yet simultaneously sharp and unyielding. She caressed each one in turn as she anxiously waited for Joan’s next move.  
Joan was pleased with Vera’s predictable reaction; she, and she alone was in control of tonight’s proceedings. She manoeuvred Vera, sliding narrow hips and buttocks between her thighs. As she widened her legs Joan felt her sticky lips unseal themselves, held for so long between tightly pressed thighs her engorged clit pulsed as it was pulled against her pubic bone and her tight underwear tugged snugly into her cleft, the damp material cooling slightly in the night air.  
Joan pulled Vera in tight and cradled her breasts with her left hand and forearm, folding Vera’s hands over her leather clad wrist, nimble fingers grazing the small buttons concealing her thrumming pulse. She began to rub the waspie, the muted vibrations of leather susurrating over the rough silk relayed from her fingertips to her opened cunt. Her thighs clenched around Vera’s and she involuntarily thrust her breasts into Vera’s back, aching nipples firing companion signals to her pulsing clit. 

“How long have you wanted to wear one of these, Vera?” She asked fingering the chromed snaps along the centre line.  
Despite her arousal Vera laughed bitterly. “Where would I wear one of these? At the pub?” Twisting her neck she looked questioningly at Joan.  
“You’re not listening, Vera, not where - how long?” Joan’s dark eyes scanned her face.  
“Years…. but I could never justify buying one.” She admitted in a small voice, looking down at her lap.  
“You should never have to justify the pursuit of pleasure, Vera.” Joan slowly circled a whorl in the silk with her ring finger. “How does it make you feel?” Her fingers strayed over the ticklish skin of Vera’s lower belly as she watched their reflection in the darkened glass.  
“Sexy.” It came out as a sigh.  
“Then that should be all the reason you need. Does other clothing make you feel sexy, Vera?”  
“I, I like boots…”  
Joan rubbed Vera’s with her bare feet, her soft legs sliding against the outside of Vera’s. “Are they all like these?” The low-set lights gleamed off her polished toenails and chromed buckles  
“No, these are the most … obvious.” She moved her hands along the smooth glove at her chest feeling the contours of Joan’s wrist and fingers through the supple hide. “You like gloves don’t you? I see how your expression changes when you put them on.” She held her breath, waiting for a denial. “Are these another present from your mentor too?”  
The answer was a long time coming and Vera took the opportunity to rub the soft glove some more, fingering the buttery creases and stroking the undulating muscle and bone through their second skin. She watched as Joan studied her in the window, a thoughtful look on her face.  
Eventually Joan replied. “No. I had these made for me because they are beautiful in both form and feel; but yes, you’re right - I do find leather gloves very pleasing.” She squeezed Vera’s captive breast, milking the nipple with her thumb.  
Vera turned her head to look at her. “Do they make you want to fuck when you wear them, Joan? Even at work?”  
Joan finally broke out into a sweat, such a direct question from an unexpected quarter; pain and pleasure – that’s what they made her want! “I’m asking the questions, Vera.”


	3. Chapter 3

Joan ceased stroking Vera’s belly and slid her hand lower. Her fingers rippled over the silky mound of Vera’s pubis expertly reading the dip and swell as tight material flattened the swollen lips creating a taut, damp membrane that hollowed slightly over the well of her vagina. Staring into the darkness of the house’s interior Joan worked by touch alone as she tried to regain her tranquil state. Leather skated over satin creating the most delicious sensations and for as long as she could Vera watched Joan’s limber arm and wrist as she skilfully teased her - how the muscles flowed and bunched under the monochrome of soft dark leather and even softer white skin as those remarkable fingers manipulated her into a near breathless frenzy through her now sopping wet underwear. 

When she was sufficiently calm Joan released Vera, spread her knees wider and slid gloved hands into the slim gap between her thighs and Vera’s hips to better facilitate the rolling of her small silky knickers down her soft skin. Still breathing hard Vera dutifully lifted her buttocks and drew her knees together to allow their removal; sliding a small cushion under Vera’s bum Joan slipped the scrap of material up over her knees and towards her ankles as Vera raised her booted feet into the air.  
As Vera brought her legs down Joan hooked her long toes under the thick cleats of the boots and guided them into position - knees bent and splayed, her own muscular limbs gripping Vera’s.

In front of them the window reflected their embrace – the small supine woman, naked save for boots and bound waist cradled almost maternally by the long, elegant limbs of the obsidian haired woman who rested her chin in the angle between bare neck and shoulder. Their skin gleamed in the soft light, the planes and hollows of their bodies defined by radiance and shadow.  
Seemingly from nowhere Joan produced a small mirror and placed it between their feet, angling it to capture Vera’s nakedness. “Can you see yourself, Vera? Can you see what I see?”  
“It’s ugly!” Vera looked away, not wanting to see, ashamed to meet Joan’s eyes in the mirror.  
“Who told you that?” She took Vera’s left hand and placed it between her legs. “You should have conducted enough strip searches over the years to know there is no such thing as a standard vulva; there is no da Vinci’s Vitruvian 'woman', ergo there is no set design for the perfect female form.” She placed her palm over Vera’s knuckles. “Do you think it’s ugly when you touch yourself hmmm?” Joan began to guide Vera’s hand across her soft inner thigh, her fingers fitting between Vera’s allowing her to share in the pleasure, she brought the right hand across the thick mound of hair encouraging Vera to comb it with her fingers, sensitising the skin beneath. She shivered with delight as Vera moaned and turned her head to watch the progress of their explorations in the mirror. Vera looked drunk as she gaped at her reflection, her eyes initially failing to recognise what Joan wanted her to but widening as her brain connected the images and sensations together in a rush. 

That was the look Joan had been waiting for, the awakening of Vera’s acceptance to her body’s capabilities - appreciation would follow soon enough. This was what she’d had planned for Vera all those hours ago, to watch her pleasure herself for their combined gratification; Joan groaned deep in her throat at the erotic image of them both in the window. Her eyes flickered back to the tightly focused reflection between their feet feeling her excitement start to increase again as she vicariously enjoyed Vera’s pleasure.

“Describe to me how your cunt feels.” She rolled the word ‘cunt’ round her mouth – it was the right word she thought for this instrument of pleasure and she steered Vera’s small hand down to cup and massage its entirety before letting go to allow Vera her freedom.  
Vera faltered a moment as she registered what Joan had said. She had never heard her voluntarily use such coarse language and it thrilled her! “My hair, it feels so soft, so springy”  
“Does it feel good when you stroke it?” Joan sensuously rubbed her leg against Vera’s.  
“Oh yes!”  
“How about if you tug it gently, do you like that?”  
“Mmm, oh that’s niiice!” She groaned out the word as she pulled on random tufts of her fleece.  
“Grip more of it, pull it hard.”  
Vera did as she was told. Her eyes widened as the smarting sting became a sharp pulse of pleasure.  
“How does it feel, Vera?”  
Ohhh… Vera’s eyes closed as she resumed stroking her outer lips. “My lips, they feel like soft pillows. Ahh, they’re so sensitive!” she sealed her thighs around her hand increasing the contact between the planes of her skin.  
“Look at yourself whilst you stroke them, Vera. Look! Open your eyes!”  
Vera ran her fingers over her swollen inner lips that refused to stay nestled in her slit and let her knees flop into the strong support of Joan’s glistening thighs. ”Ohh the inner…ohh they’re so soft but so firm at the same time!” she gasped “… sort of like rose petals but so crinkled and fleshy…..ohhhh!” She opened her eyes but saw only stars in the darkness above her.

Joan’s hands settled Vera’s thighs, little fingers tracing the seal between their sweaty skins as they trailed down to Vera’s feathery pubes. “How can plump pillows and soft, soft flower petals be ugly hmm?” Joan almost winced as she said the words but knew from experience that a little blowsy imagery could be a useful medium. “Do you think it’s ugly when you stroke yourself to climax?” Joan pulled Vera’s outer lips back tight against her pelvis, dark digits framing her clit riding proud and her abundant inner lips, pale lilac frills edged in a deeper mauve. ”Look at your sex, Vera. See how exquisite you are. I want you to touch yourself for me.”  
The thought of refusal never entered Vera’s mind. She wet her fingertips on her tongue and tentatively grazed the thin frilled edges with them, jerking under her own touch she involuntarily increased the pressure on her tender folds, encountering the wetness gathered within. She met Joan’s glittering gaze in the mirror and rubbed her temple against Joan’s cheek for reassurance, their skin sliding on mingled sweat. She thought her cunt looked like an exotic fruit with its ripe, jewelled flesh bursting from its dark casing and small gleaming seeds of moisture. Her pale fingers contrasted starkly with her flushed lips.  
“Stroke yourself, Vera.” Joan whispered as she rubbed back, her lower lip grazing Vera’s eyelashes with her words. “I want to watch your petals open up for me.”  
Gathering as much of her thick juices as she could Vera anointed her inner lips, rubbing the excited flesh in much the same way Joan had done during shift earlier that evening. She watched her fingers in rapture as they sank into the fleshy channel, rippling the folds as she stroked the length of her clit from slick hole to its peak and then up across the stretched hood to Joan’s overlapping thumbs. She jerked against Joan as her clit responded to the wet touch and her fingers made the journey again and again as she grew hotter and wetter, her bleating gasps of pleasure were scattered left and right as her head ground against Joan’s chest. Needing more access she swung her feet over Joan’s legs, forcing them down; planting the sturdy soles outside the boundary of Joan’s knees, her violet lips opened wide to the night and her thrusting fingers. Vera felt Joan’s smile before she saw it, a smile that confirmed the move to be the correct one.

Sucking on the fingers of her other hand she rubbed her lips against her teeth, oh what she wouldn’t give to be kissed by Joan right now, to have her mouth filled with hot, insistent tongue as Joan held her, surrounded her! Thoroughly wetted now she pushed her fingers into her exposed slickness using both hands to massage her corrugated lips, their many creases diminished as they bloomed and spread in the soft light.  
“Now isn’t that a thing of perfect beauty, Vera?” Joan breathed heavily into her neck. Whilst Vera’s small fingers had worked their magic on her sex, they had also been rubbing on Joan’s encompassing, leather-clad hands - so much sensation! – Her nipples poked Vera’s shoulder blades. “You couldn’t possibly describe it as ugly now could you?” She released her hold on Vera, guiding her wet fingers up to her clit. “I want you to come for me Vera. I want you to imagine that your hand is mine, that I’m rubbing you and that it’s my fingers inside you.“ Her breath was hot and hard against Vera’s ear as her right arm snaked round her constricted waist and she pulled Vera tighter into her embrace.

Vera needed no further encouragement; it was Joan’s strong arm reaching between her legs, it was Joan who sank two fingers into her molten hole and began to pump them in and out, putting pressure on her clit with the base of her thumb, shunting it with every sucking push and pull. With her other hand Vera grabbed at her breast, squeezing it hard, gripping her nipple between fingertips and palm as she crushed it to generate intense bolts of new-found pleasure to her burning cunt.  
Her gasping bleats intensified into concerted whimpering as the bright commotion between her thighs eclipsed everything else, driving her almost to the brink. “Jesus fuck! Shit, Joan…..! Fuuuck!”  
Joan felt her clit swell and harden as Vera writhed and gasped in her hold; its very tip scraped against the sheer fabric of her knickers, an urgent ache was building in her cunt and she felt the familiar tightness in her belly. The disturbing realisation that she was going to come staggered her. No! Not like this, not now! CONTROL, Joan! With tremendous effort she forced herself to withdraw from the moment, shutting her mind off from the tangle of electrical impulses in her body that threatened to betray her will.

Lifting her face to Joan Vera begged for a kiss “I’m so fucking near, Joan, but I can’t kiss myself… Joan? Please….?”  
Joan clamped her hot hand over Vera’s mouth bruising her lips and forcing two fingers inside where they stroked her tongue and palate, the warm leather initially absorbing all moisture from them before becoming slick and shiny. She wrenched Vera’s head to the side and bit her exposed neck, tasting salt and bitter perfume as her hot tongue scoured strained muscle and sinew.  
Vera’s frantic pace continued for a second or two before she froze, her breath choked in her throat and her shoulders jerked as she came around her fingers. Her mind still reeling from the dual assault on her mouth and neck, wetness filled her hand and oozed round her knuckles into the crack of her arse.


	4. Chapter 4

Gently tracing the outline her teeth had left on Vera’s neck Joan broke the silence. “You must be thirsty Vera, let’s go in and get something cool, what do you say?”   
Vera felt herself pushed forward as Joan pulled herself up onto the fountain’s edge and stretched her stiff muscles. She rubbed her sore lips, upset at Joan’s refusal to kiss her; the feeling of Joan’s mouth on her neck was still vivid in her mind causing her abraded patches to throb in time with her pulse as it slowly, slowly returned to somewhere near normal. Why couldn’t Joan kiss her like a normal person? She knew that she didn’t have much experience in these matters but Vera was certain that in her opinion, kissing was a big part of foreplay and lovemaking.

Joan pulled her unsteady deputy to her feet and ushered her inside to the kitchen. Depositing Vera in a woven wire chair she went to the freezer, laying her hands against the smooth interior to dissipate the intense heat contained within their beautiful coverings.  
“I have to get these boots off, Joan – I’m so unbearably hot!”   
“Wait, if you really must then please, let me.” Popping an ice cube into her mouth Joan picked up the tray and walked over to Vera. “This should cool you down a little…”She said, the ice muffling her words; she loosened a handful of lozenge shapes and touched one to Vera’s open mouth, deliberately taking her time she traced the bruised lips with the glistening lump; she knew by the way they twitched that Vera still so desperately craved the kiss she had been denied but instead of indulging her Joan pushed the ice deep between them and stepped back enjoying the wounded look on the girl’s face.  
Crouching before Vera she insinuated her hand between her hot thighs and slowly inserted three ice cubes into her sticky, swollen vagina, their slippery surfaces working with the silken secretions to slide in effortlessly. Vera gasped as the nuggets of fiery ice travelled into her core; her muscles contracting against the unusual and unexpected intrusion. Yet despite the oddness of it Vera found that she was turned on again and pressed her puffy lips against the unforgiving wire waffle of her seat. 

Slowly, Joan unbuttoned her gloves and methodically worked her way out of them, her watchful eyes following Vera’s close interest as she slid them off. Vera’s eyes were drawn to the small scarlet diamonds where the wrist fastening gaped – so much like the colours of Joan’s fanny that night in the office.   
“What is it Vera? Is there something amiss?” She laid the gloves across her thighs and began to unbuckle a boot, working slowly and purposefully as drops of water began to fall from the seat of Vera’s chair to splash on the terrazzo floor beneath bringing out the delicate colours of the marble aggregate.   
She took a deep breath. “Honestly? I was thinking that at first glance the red slash against the black looked like your pussy the other night.” Vera tried to hold her gaze steady as Joan looked up at her, hoping she hadn’t overstepped the mark with her candid reply.  
Despite her choice of language, Joan was pleased with the level of intimacy Vera was displaying and smiled broadly, dispelling the vague look of worry in her eyes. “Did you know that apprentice geisha traditionally style their hair in a similar fashion, a slash of scarlet or peach silk exposed by an oiled parting to represent their sex? The image is found in many cultures, Vera. But…..” Her smile was suddenly replaced by a look of reproach and disdain. “’Pussy’, Vera? Really? Are you a, a … a rapper?” Joan squinted at the ceiling as she searched for the appropriate characterisation. Lowering them, her dark eyes questioned Vera’s.   
“N-no” Vera had no idea what Joan was asking her.  
She moved onto the other boot. “Then why do you refer to a woman’s sex as a ‘pussy’. Where on earth did you pick up that appalling word?”   
“Erm…..around?”  
Poor Vera, Joan mused, how desperately ignorant she was of the erotic lexicon. “Don’t use it around me when there are so many other appropriate words for you to choose from, Vera.”   
“Like what?”  
“Well, for example, you could use the term ‘cavity of carnal delight’.”   
“I’m sorry…?”  
She broke into genuine laughter at Vera’s evident astonishment. “Come on, Vera! I’m teasing you! You’re likely to find that phrase in the erotic French classics but I’ve never heard it used in common parlance!” Joan loosened the last strap before standing up and, laying her gloves carefully on the table, easing Vera’s feet from within their rigid confines. “No wonder you’re hot, just look at these socks!” A smile stayed on her face as she peeled off the ridiculously thick hose in one fluid gesture.

Joan padded away and opened the fridge; her figure was perfectly silhouetted by the interior light, the dress a dark halo around her curves. Vera could not help but gawk as Joan turned jug in hand; her sinuous body and naked breasts clearly delineated against the icy glow, chilled nipples jutting through creased silk. Her clit jerked as she imagined crossing the space between them and rubbing her body against Joan’s until the tall woman weakened and kissed her. 

Kicking the door shut Joan crossed to the counter and poured two large glasses of chilled water, offering one to Vera. “Drink?”  
As she stood to take the glass from Joan’s outstretched hand the reservoir of melted ice flowed down her leg, following the curve of muscle, tendon and bone to pool by her foot. She looked up at Joan and mugged an apologetic grin at her “Ooops!”  
Joan threw a roll of kitchen towel at her. “There’s a cloakroom through that door, go and freshen up, Vera.”  
Drying off her leg Vera then mopped up the puddle. “The only way I’ll be able to freshen up is with a shower,” she laughed shyly, “I don’t suppose you’d let me would you?”   
Tilting her head to one side Joan appraised Vera; her hair was slowly losing any semblance of an updo, the waspie was showing signs of distress and Vera herself reeked of sweat and musk. She was aware of a similar scent oozing from her own clammy skin but knew that she looked much better than Vera did at this point. “No, you suppose right. Not at this stage. Come on then.” She passed Vera her glass and carried the tray holding her own and the sweating jug to the foot of the staircase.  
“Upstairs?” If not to the shower then where? To Joan’s room? Vera felt a surge of adrenaline at the prospect of being in Joan’s bedroom. Joan had been so nice to her tonight and had even dressed up for her - were they actually going to make love? In Joan’s bed? Vera desperately hoped that Joan would let her touch her.  
“Yes, Vera. Upstairs.” She raised her perfect brows and indicated Vera’s expected route with her expressive eyes.


	5. Chapter 5

Vera drank deeply from her glass as they ascended the stair “The door ahead, Vera.”  
She turned the ceramic knob and swung the door open, holding it as Joan plucked the glass from her hand and navigated the dimly lit room to set the tray down on a deep window seat. Despite the heat on the landing the room was surprisingly cool.  
Joan beckoned her in and sat her down in the centre of the room on a long, low wooden box, its polished lid divided into three sections; a panelled screen of mirrors stood to one side reflecting her seated form in triplicate. Moving to one end of the box Joan raised its lid slightly, locking it in position before moving behind Vera and, gently gripping her shoulders with her fingertips, persuading her to lie back against the smooth wood. As she stood above Vera Joan thought how well her narrow body fit the slender planks, almost as if she were laid out on her own coffin.  
The sheer silk hung from the swell of Joan’s breasts in a dark waterfall towards Vera’s upturned face; lying there on her back she was treated to the sight of Joan’s lustrous thighs and luxuriant black bush, chased through with erratic streaks of silver, encased in the sheerest lingerie she’d ever seen. It were as if Joan wore nothing but an iridescent shadow to cover her modesty. 

Vera could still not believe that it was she whom Joan wanted; that this intelligent, assured and beautiful woman who could have her pick of lovers had chosen her! Nobody had ever taken this much interest in her without expecting a much higher return; but Joan saw her potential. Joan cared. 

“Now, Vera, I’d like to see you work on controlling your responses some more. I was very impressed with your efforts this evening and I’d like to see how you cope under a different set of stimuli.” As Joan bent over the far end section of the seat, the short hem of her dress rose towards the small of her back exposing the beautifully curved division of her magnificent buttocks.  
Vera drank in the fabulous sight, eyes unconsciously drawn to the ladder of silvery scars extending from mid-thigh to wonderfully firm, rounded cheeks; she wondered how long they had marred Joan’s perfect skin – from childhood perhaps? Vera thought back to how her mother used to beat her with a wooden spoon to punish her disobedience. As she dwelt on how the sharp sting would curb her behaviour the memory of Joan whipping her with black leather gloves pushed itself to the fore and she squirmed feeling her inner lips pulse with super-heated blood. 

Lifting the lid Joan pulled out a slender lacquered bamboo cane tipped with a small, ornately fashioned silver rake. She pivoted and ran the wicked tines across Vera’s ribs causing her to squeal and twist away from the ticklishly sharp instrument. Vera’s breath caught in her throat as the tip was firmly pressed against her breast bone, a fleeting surge of fear gripping her mind at the thought of what Joan could do to her.  
“Shhh, shhh. Concentrate, Vera, focus only on the touch. Do not let yourself become distracted by the frivolous.” Joan bent over Vera to stare deep into her eyes. Her steady look calmed Vera’s apprehension and solidified her resolve to do as Joan instructed.  
“Feel it in your mind; follow the connection between skin and metal, between the vibrant and inert.” She drew it again along Vera’s side, fine white lines signalling its journey across unblemished skin. “Close your eyes and visualise the path of this rake leading you to your goals. Don’t shy away from it, Vera, embrace it. Discomfort focuses the mind.”  
Could she manage it? Joan wondered, was Vera open enough to the concept? It seemed that until recently, discomfort had only scattered Vera’s attention but she had shown a marked improvement under Joan’s tutelage.

She softly stroked the silvered head around the delicate undersides of Vera’s breasts, adoring the gentle gasping it provoked. “Consider the effect degrees of pressure have on the skin; is it pleasure? Is it pain?” Her honeyed voice flowed over Vera as she dimpled the sharp teeth into tender flesh leaving rows of tiny dents, her nostrils flaried as Vera pressed her lips together against the sting. “Could it be both….or neither?” She dragged the tip over Vera’s nipple. The crinkled point bent under the force of Joan’s ministrations and Vera cried out at the cruel scrape but held her position; she wasn't sure how much pain she could endure but was damned if she'd let Joan think her weak this time.  
“I think you should discover these things for yourself. “ She placed the handle of the rake in Vera’s palm and moved to the darkened recess of a tall window where she knew she was well hidden from Vera’s view but where, through careful angling of the mirrored screen, she could perfectly observe Vera’s responses.

Vera touched the sharp teeth to her lower lip. She drew them over the sensitive, mobile ridge fusing the plush of her lips to the soft skin of her mouth, marvelling as increased pressure made her skin came alive in the wake of the scouring tines. She looked in Joan’s direction as she started to scratch patterns on her chest, sometimes following the path of the rake with her fingers whilst her belly quaked as she fought to control her ticklishness. If she mastered this test then she may finally be able to be close to Joan.  
As Vera began to confidently graze the claw along the inside of her leg Joan brought her fingertips to her nipples, gently circling the very tips till they stood stiff and responsive beneath the sensuous silk. Widening the circles she slowly touched the whole of each breast, the pleasure building until she was forced to return her attention to her aching nipples. Rubbing them hard, the silk felt fantastically rough against her hypersensitive skin, slipping away from her fingers as she plucked at the pebble-hard tips; frustrated she roughly hoisted the front of her dress and tucked it into the neckband. Compared to the cool air that flowed over her the fine silk felt like sackcloth where it lay against her damp body.  
She could hear Vera’s laboured breathing above her own but desired those sweet moans of pleasure that always reached into her core. “Touch yourself for me again Vera. Use your hands.” Her urgent, disembodied voice rent the still air as she massaged her unfettered teats, fingers twisting her resilient nipples till they sang a shrill song of pain, the discordant notes plucking at her incredibly wet and swollen sex. 

The box had borne numerous women over the years, each one adding to its lid’s deep patina but of all the select group of subordinate officers she had instructed on it, none had made her as conscious of her body’s needs as Vera, none of them had ever made Joan quaver in her instruction like the downtrodden creature squirming atop it now.  
The obvious change in Joan’s voice offered Vera a flash of satisfaction; she hoped that, safely hidden in the shadows, Joan was touching herself too. Vera closed her eyes and imagined Joan fondling her large breasts as her own palms slithered up her sides to scrub across her stiff nipples.

When Vera began to grab at her luscious tits Joan caved in to her need and finally allowed herself to touch her own genitals. Covering the whole of her cunt with her hand she dug her fingers into her aching hole, waggling them against twitching muscle as she ground her clit into her pubic bone. She fell weak-kneed into her hand, gyrating against it as her erogenous zones fired in a cacophony of arousal that almost blew her mind. Frustrated by the screen of gauze that separated hand from velvet wetness Joan distractedly shed her underwear, almost shredding it in her haste to gain access. Her gasp was audible as her fingers delved deep into her hot, slick recesses, stroking silken membranes and slippery clit with blindingly exquisite force. For unknown minutes formless images flashed behind her closed eyelids until eventually she folded her fingers together in a steeple of flesh and bone and shoved them into her sodden hole, not caring if they fitted as long as she was stretched and pummelled, not caring if Vera heard her uncontrolled cries and growls. She nearly lost her footing as the muscles of her thighs and stomach clenched involuntarily from the pre-orgasmic waves shooting from her clit.  
Vera too, was becoming noisy in her masturbatory undertaking as she took her cue from Joan, her harmony of liquid sighs and groans initiating Joan’s slide into oblivion. Unable to support herself any longer Joan fell to the floor, her head banging hard against the window sill as she rammed her fingers inside; dragging spittle down to her bullet-like clit with shaking fingers she frantically circled it, collapsing sideways as darkness invaded her consciousness - the loss of external influences crystallised the excruciating orgasm she so badly needed and a nebulous field of stars fractured her feral howl as it ebbed and flowed through her and the crushing band in her lower belly wrung out an orgasm of stellar proportions; her body contorted through waves of helpless contractions as the feather light touches of her fingertips played out the symphony of bliss on her clit. 

Joan lay on the hard floor, spent, twitching, a deep satisfied glow suffusing her erogenous zones.  
“That’s enough, Vera, go and stand by the bed.“  
Ripped from her fantasy of slippery and very naked Joan, Vera took a moment or two to respond to the command, struggling to acclimatise to frustrated reality.  
“By the bed. NOW!”


	6. Chapter 6

Waiting for her next instruction Vera peered into the gloom trying to see Joan. Giving up she briefly scanned the room – one side was dominated by an antique walnut chest of drawers and the screen, the other by the sleigh bed, the polished wood bounding a vast expanse of gold coloured brocade. At the foot of the bed stood a vase of long-stemmed yellow roses perfectly positioned in the centre of a delicately carved table.

On the bed cover lay underwear and a large dildo like the one Joan had used on her. “I’d like you to wear those for me, Vera.”  
Vera picked up the underwear; it looked like a rubber jock-strap but with a hole just above where her clit would be. She looked questioningly into the darkened alcove.  
“Slide the shaft through the hole in the harness.” With difficulty Vera did as she was bid. “Now step into it and pull it up to your hips.”  
Vera made a small sound as the tip of the plug grazed her lips.   
“Well go on, Vera, it won’t get in there on its own now, will it?”   
Shooting a look of lust mixed with trepidation in Joan’s direction she introduced the tip into her vagina, coating it with as much of her slippery juices as she could to ease its passage. Her mind reeled at the thought of Joan inserting her own cock like this the other night and then at what Joan had done to her with it afterwards. She was going to push this huge dildo into Joan! She could hardly believe that this was happening to her!   
“Do you need lubricant? You’ll find some in the drawer.”  
Rotating her hips Vera ignored the sarcastic comment and worked at the dildo, flinching as it finally slid home on a sudden gush of wetness and banged against her clit. Yanking at the harness she smoothed it into place and set about tightening the straps. She didn’t need to be told to do that she thought peevishly.

“Have you ever wondered what it would be like to have a penis, Vera? A cock? To have the freedom of men, the instant and easy gratification attendant on them? Have you ever wanted to masturbate like a man, Vera? To make love like one? “ Joan emerged from the shadows, dress perfectly adjusted, her hips undulating as she padded slowly across the tiled floor. “Run your hands along its length, feel the beauty of it.”   
Vera felt wickedly obscene as she handled her cock. Her hands slipped along the thick shaft, fingers gliding upwards over the subtle glossy curves and tastefully moulded head; squeezing its firm extent she pulled it toward her belly and felt the internal plug shift in response to the altered angle.  
“But we should be infinitely glad that we are not men,” Joan continued, “… that we are lucky enough to possess instruments of such concerted pleasure, capable of such prolonged ecstasy, of endless, forbidden desires? Pull on your cock, Vera. How does it feel inside you? How does it feel against your cunt?“   
Gripping the considerable girth in her hand Vera began to tentatively tug at the rod, wholly unprepared for the way the sensation translated against her clit and g-spot.  
“Oh! Oh, god!” She clenched her thighs against the delicious friction, pulling on her cock more forcefully, pushing it firmly back against her hardening clitoris. 

Joan returned to the end compartment of the box, motioning Vera with a flap of her hand to be seated again. Reaching in she retrieved two small packages, one of which she unfolded as she moved towards Vera. “Do you remember these?” She shook out a pair of stockings, the sheer fabric creased in places yet curiously stiff in others. Kneeling beside Vera Joan whispered the silk over her deputy’s parted lips, pausing to push a stiffened area up to Vera’s nose. “Can you smell that, Vera?” Her eyes flickered over Vera’s face. “ I didn’t think you would ever have the nerve to engage in frottage but you surprised me. And here is the proof….and here too.” Joan gathered the thigh bands together and trailed them under Vera’s flaring nostrils. “Do you smell just how much you surprised me, Vera?”   
The difference in odours was startling. Her own scent retained the sweetness of her juices whilst Joan’s was much heavier, muskier. The back of Vera’s hand skimmed Joan’s arm as she stared into her mentor’s handsome face, taking in the obvious and welcome signs of her arousal. Pulling away with a sudden look of distaste Joan brought the other package into view – a delicate pair of white kid gloves. She took Vera’s raised hand and stroked the leather across her palm. “Put them on.” She ordered curtly.

Conflicting emotions chased through Vera with this sudden change in Joan’s demeanour; what would Joan do about her instinctive caress? Was it a punishable action? And what could she possibly be planning that required her to wear gloves? Feeling nervous anticipation she slid them on. A little to her surprise she found that they fitted her very well indeed as she flexed her slender fingers to test their suppleness.  
“I’m going to blindfold you now.” Carefully folding one of the stockings into a protective pad for Vera’s eyes, Joan wound the other firmly round her fragile skull; leaning into her ear Joan whispered “Did you keep your own underwear as a souvenir? Yes? No? ” She demanded.  
Vera grew hot with embarrassment. “Yes, I kept them.” Her mind flashed to the times she had fingered the stained material knowing that Joan had been the cause, the times she had gripped them in her sweaty hand as she brought herself to orgasm thinking of Joan’s naked body pressed against hers…..   
“Yes, I thought you may have. Lie back for me.” She brusquely pushed Vera into the seat, her hand lingering on the breastbone. “Enjoy that thing between your legs! Don’t be shy!”

Free of Vera’s gaze she finally rid herself of her dress. Letting down her hair she shook it out, raking long fingers through her dense mane as she admired her impressive physique in the mirrors; allowing her hands to slowly work their way down her neck and chest to her breasts. Her sore nipples sprang up at her touch and with naked desire she eyed the thick length of cock that Vera was so enthusiastically manhandling.

Quickly crossing the room she removed a small red velvet box from the drawer by the bed; inside lay a pair of finely wrought grips connected by a fine chain. Pinching her nipples to full attention Joan precisely attached a grip to each one; the electrifying contact drew sharp intakes of breath through her flared nostrils as the pain sparked into her breast bone and down to her tingling clit, generating a flood of wetness to her already slippery slit. Turning to the drawer again she took out the lube and returned to stand over Vera drinking in her pants and moans as the sightless woman agitated the cock, lifting and dipping her hips as she developed a pleasing rhythm.   
“Vera. Vera! Shh, shh I want you to stop and lay still now, hands on the sides of the box. Do exactly as I say.”   
Flipping the lid with a practiced move Joan slathered shining lube down the cock and cast the bottle on the bed. Smearing the excess from her palm onto her tender tits she straddled Vera’s hips and lowered herself onto the tip of the phallus, rubbing herself against it as she nudged it between glistening, swollen lips to butt against the crinkled pad of her opening. She gripped Vera’s constricted waist for balance, breasts squeezed together between defined biceps as she slid down the rigid column; a protracted hiss escaped her open mouth as the combined slickness of lube and juices worked to fill her suddenly and completely with cock.

The sudden weight and searing heat of Joan’s body stunned Vera. Pinned to the planks and in darkness her mind fastened onto the tumult of new feelings feeding her fevered imagination. She was intimately connected to Joan - she knew that, her shifting weight produced unbelievable responses deep inside her; instinctively Vera’s hips pushed against Joan in an unconscious move as she thought of Joan panting above her, shining in her nakedness as she rode her cock.  
“I said still!”  
Joan rocked gently against the hard, unforgiving rod; screwing up her face as she rode the surges of prickling heat that coruscated across her bare skin, building the intensity of her movements till she was snorting and gasping with animal lust and eventually forced to exercise some restraint for fear of building to climax before the time was right.  
She shifted to sit on Vera’s thighs, the cock straining against the unnatural angle as she maintained her grip on its slippery length. Bringing her legs up and tight together Joan braced her feet against Vera’s breasts, long toes pushing on her collar bones as she leant back and slowly swivelled her hips on the fulcrum of cock buried deep within her allowing her mind to clear and centre on the sheer pleasure of her situation.   
As Joan pushed backwards the cock stretched and strained inside Vera, hooking behind her pelvic bone and digging deep into her g-spot; she jerked as the need to pee suddenly became a worrying threat until it developed into an urgent throbbing throughout her cunt, a throbbing that was compounded by the pressure of Joan’s hot, hard feet on her breasts, pushing her securely against the smooth boards. Her sighs and moans increased as Joan’s steady movements drove her body’s tolerance in new, breath-taking directions. 

The tickling of the fine chain joining her breasts could not be ignored; placing it between her teeth she drew back her head creating exquisite tension. With hot fingers she brushed the tips of her nipples where they bulged over the jaws of the clamps, the initial sensations dulled by the constricting bite but brilliantly bursting into life as she agitated the trapped flesh to the urgent sounds of Vera’s pleasure. She jerked as her confined cunt responded to the deep, flaring suffering; clit throbbing as the urgent signals of desire raced through her. Sliding her middle finger down to her cleft she began to circle the tip of her lively clit, reflexively arching her back as a whisper of pressure started to build in her lower belly. She was ready.

Swinging herself forward Joan dragged Vera down the lid of the box until she was flat on her back. “Pump your hips Vera. Fuck me! Do it!”   
Oh my god! Joan was asking her to fuck her! She finally wanted her, Vera Bennett, to fuck her, Joan Ferguson! Vera burned with intense arousal as she began to swivel her hips against Joan’s taut thighs and backside. Raising her knees, Vera gripped the lid with her toes and enthusiastically levered her hips into Joan, working hard to please Joan but trying to rub as much of herself as she could against the dildo that gyrated inside the tight harness to satisfy her own escalating excitement.  
“Harder! Yesss! Don’t stop!” Joan rode the pistoning dildo hard as it slid effortlessly in and out between her fevered flanges. She was stretched wide, battered from the inside as Vera gave her all she could, mashing her clit into the smooth rubber of the harness where their rhythms met. Her buttocks and thighs rippled with the force of contact with Vera’s rigid legs and conveyed the most delicious vibrations up to her burning nipples.  
Joan grabbed Vera’s gloved hands and placed them over the glittering clamps, locking Vera’s elbows, using her weight to press her hard into the unforgiving planks. “Squeeze hard, Vera, squeeze hard! Aaaahhhhhh!” she rocked against the leather and metal as her thighs gripped hard against Vera’s sides and the unyielding edges of the box. The friction between leather and skin told Vera that Joan was naked! Her clit bulged against the dildo’s curve and she redoubled her efforts to fuck the fabulous creature astride her. 

Joan’s hot cunt was so slick, her copious secretions spread down her thighs, up to her arsehole, along the furrows of her swollen, distended lips, lubricating every contact with Vera. Requiring more she tightened her pelvic floor around the shaft, intensifying the terrific pulsing need singing through her strained muscles. Leaning forward over Vera, forcing her arms to buckle, she gripped the sides of the raised lid, scrabbling for traction on the smooth floor with sweaty toes she commenced the ascent to orgasm; growling and moaning as she tossed her head in abandonment. The feel of Joan’s breasts in Vera’s hands was intoxicating – they were so heavy, soft and pliable; she raised her head to them as Joan shifted position and sucked on their velvety underside tasting pungent sweat, slipping a hand down and round to grip Joan’s amazing arse as all thoughts of self-control vanished in the face of their combined arousal. 

Awareness of an unplanned and unwelcome intrusion pierced her erotic consciousness; Joan hissed and pulled back, knocking away Vera’s hands then pinning her to the unforgiving wood by the throat. How dare Vera interrupt her at such a critical moment? “What the hell do you think you're doing?” Her crimson lips drew back over her teeth as she snarled at Vera. Panting uncontrollably, furious at her denial, she looked like a wild woman, her ebony mane framing flushed features as she glowered at her cringing subordinate.  
Heavens knew she’d tried to curb Vera’s wandering hands but obviously stronger measures were required. “You just don’t learn do you?” She hissed, unsheathing the hot cock as she recoiled from Vera. Rising to her full height she lifted Vera by the neck, fully appreciating the look of bewildered panic it engendered and dropped her onto the floor, deftly binding Vera’s wrists behind her with the trailing laces of her corset as she floundered on her knees.  
Vera crouched in fear and confusion as Joan roughly fastened her hands behind her, thankful that the gloves protected her a little from the tight bonds. She knew she had disobeyed Joan but was horrified that it had provoked this reaction in her; she never thought that she would ever find herself in a situation like this with a lover.   
“And here we are again.” Disdain dripped from Joan’s words. “Why do you think that is, Vera, hmmm?” She roughly pulled Vera back to her feet and threw her by her neck and stays into the middle of the bed. Climbing alongside Joan arranged Vera’s legs to her satisfaction then, sliding off she padded round to the vase of flowers and plucked a long stem from the arrangement.  
“I expect you to remain in this position. Can you manage that, Vera, or would you like to go home?”


	7. Chapter 7

Vera lay on the bed, feet pulled up to her bottom, soles touching and knees splayed wide, her shoulders, elbows and bound hands uncomfortably supporting her weight; her thighs and upper body were trembling as much from the unnatural position as with the trepidation she felt whilst she considered her options - causing her cock to bob and weave unseen above her belly. The rational part of her brain reminded her that didn’t have to be here, trussed like a turkey because she innocently showed affection and desire towards Joan but, in her heart, she knew that she did; if she ever wanted to be as powerfully efficient and commanding as Joan then she must accept her terms. Joan had warned her before in so many subtle ways about uninitiated skin on skin contact, hell - she barely tolerated Vera’s touch through clothing! Yet still, a part of her rebelled against the unfairness of it all. “But Joan…”  
The menace in Joan’s voice stemmed her words. “Think very carefully, Vera. Yes? Or no?”   
“Yes, ….but I don’t see why I’m expecte….”   
Joan cast the bloom aside and snatched the mass of roses from their vase. She stormed back to tower over Vera and, hooking the corset with her muscular fingers, dragged her towards the edge of the bed. She slashed the bouquet across Vera’s breasts. THWACK!  
“You will NOT.” THWACK! “Question me in these matters.” THWACK! “I am your mentor.” THWACK! “Your Governor.” THWACK! “This schooling is for YOUR betterment.“ THWACK! “Do I continually have to repeat myself, Vera?” She caught herself just in time - CONTROL, Joan, put your anger aside. This punishment is solely for her own good! You have other outlets for your ire. 

Loosened by the repeated blows the bruised and battered petals violently surrendered in a burst of yellow; they showered Vera like confetti as Joan continued to beat her with the switch of wickedly pliable stems.   
“Please, Joan, no! Please stop!” This suddenly hurt far worse than Joan’s gloves, she thought, worse than the rake - but she was wet, she could feel it collecting around the dildo in her cunt, feel it squelching as the cock wavered above her hips.  
Joan paused - briefly. “Are you content being Vera the Meek? The laughing-stock of Wentworth? I’ll stop right now if you are ..… if you never desire to become Governor Bennett when I eventually take command elsewhere….”   
Vera bit her lip, turning her head to one side in failure to answer. She had secretly been hoping that Joan would punish her again but now that she was actually receiving it she felt woefully out of her depth.  
Joan worked her way down Vera’s hard ribs before starting on her exposed inner thighs, pausing only briefly to position Vera’s feet away from possible damage. The woody green fragrance of the switch mingled with the scent from the drifts of crushed petals and the deep, musky sweat rising up from the two women – one heavy with arousal and the other sharp with fear.  
“You must accept that I do this for OUR mutual benefit. If I place expectations on you, Vera, it’s because I believe that you are capable of meeting them. I do not expect you to prove me wrong. So with these points in mind, Vera, do you wish me to desist?” Her arm stilled in anticipation of the answer.  
Vera steeled herself; she knew that her future career depended on her reply; but equally importantly, so did her continued intimacy (such as it was) with Joan. “I’m sorry, Joan, you’re right. Do what you have to….finish it!”   
Joan beamed with smug satisfaction; Vera had just unwittingly signed herself over to a future of unknown discovery; one that she, Joan Ferguson, would direct. The clamps that bit her nipples swayed with every renewed stroke, the welcome pain mingling Joan’s irritation with Vera’s shortcomings and her intense enjoyment of this lesson, driving her to beat Vera harder than planned, effortlessly swinging her arm in a steady and practiced manner. Gaining the greatest fulfilment from abusing her beautiful breasts Joan systematically marked Vera’s quivering flesh, flogging her until the overworked stems began to bend and break. 

Vera’s thighs and torso were a mass of welts, her rock hard nipples were raw and stripes of pain shot across her ribs as she sobbed at the realisation that Joan had delivered her final strokes, tears slid from her eyes into their silken bindings as she slumped in relief. The pain had long since ceased to excite her, instead becoming something to endure as best she could.   
Joan’s breath roared in her throat. She could feel the exact shape of her clit as it pulsed and beat, as if every molecule of air in the cool room were stroking it with silken fingers. Backing away from the sniffling Vera Joan began to quake with a helpless, contactless orgasm, her untouched clit pounded, her cunt clenched in a gut twisting, shuddering ‘thing’ but there was no proper release. The need for more, the need to come properly, to release this almighty pressure was all consuming. She lurched over to the box and flung herself onto the polished lid spreading her legs wide as she plunged her fingers deep into her cunt, rubbing frantically at her clit with the other hand as she tried to regain her perfect moment of orgasm. It wasn’t enough - she needed to be filled so badly that she momentarily considered untying one of Vera’s small hands - immediately dispensing with the idea as impractical. Instead she stumbled over to the bed and climbed onto the immobile figure of Vera. Grabbing the lube again she slicked the cock up and sank down onto its mighty girth, rubbing her stiff clit with slippery fingers as she gratefully rolled her hips, grunting as her belly began to tighten around the mammoth form that seemed to ignite every nerve ending in her body. “DO. NOT. MOVE.” Her hoarse voice brooked no opposition.  
Vera froze; terrified of inciting further punishment she screwed her damp eyes shut and tried to ignore the dildo vigorously grinding into her wet heat. 

Yanking on the chain tethering her nipples Joan stretched her breasts away from her body, teeth bared as the sore tissue grudgingly slipped through the vicious pinch of metal until finally it was ripped free, permitting agonising blood to pump through deprived capillaries.  
Crushing her arm across her injured breasts Joan felt time lag as everything coalesced into perfect symmetry and the pure feeling of bliss welled up through her being. She forced her ragged breathing to match the syncopated thrusts of her hips and fingers as she stared at Vera’s heaving breasts – so damaged, so beautiful…..Oh god, so beautiful…..! The suffocating layers of frenzied ecstasy finally dissolved as Joan came shuddering around the marvellous cock. Broken shouts and half curses bled into groans as she crushed her clit hard into Vera’s harness with perfectly manicured fingertips as her hips followed the dance of the deepest velvet void. Spittle flew from her lips as the orgasm surged like lava cauterising her nerves in a blinding, colour streaked oblivion. 

She fell forward, forearms braced on Vera’s scoured chest as she ordered her breathing, her exhalations rolling over Vera’s bandaged eyes making her flinch away. She traced the line of Vera’s jaw with her middle finger. “Shhh, shh, shh, it’s OK now, it’s OK. It’s all OK……” She wasn’t quite sure who she was reassuring.   
Vera trembled as every movement of Joan’s still twitching hips travelled into her tormented cunt. The sheer force of Joan’s animal lust had brought her to the brink of coming, yet her pain and very real fear of disobeying Joan again blocked her final frantic climb that threatened to send her into a thrashing delirium.  
Sitting up Joan gingerly inspected her grumbling nipples. Hmmm, a little bruising, no blood; they would smart for a day or two – she would look forward to that. With a final, delectable rotation of her hips Joan eased herself off the magnificent cock, jerking as oversensitive nerves protested its loss. 

Crossing to the walnut chest she pulled out two thin robes. Belting one over her damp body she walked to where Vera lay painfully frustrated and cramped in her bonds. Joan gently released the chromed snaps of her corset and pulled her into a sitting position, reaching behind her she released Vera’s fastenings with a quick tug of the ribbons.  
The pain was excruciating as blood flowed back into her strained joints and muscles and Vera winced as she pulled off her damp blindfold; awkwardly she moved to sit on the edge of the mattress, numbly plucking at the harness buckles with gloved fingers.  
“Give me your hands.”   
Automatically she complied, stretching them out towards Joan who deftly eased the gleaming white gloves off finger by finger.   
“Stand.”   
She did as she was told and was encircled by Joan’s arms as she released the rubber straps around her hips and gently guided the dildo from her wet cunt before drawing the robe up Vera’s limp arms to cover some of her nakedness. Blinking up at Joan she felt a cool glass pressed into her tingling hand. “Drink, you need it.”  
Vera looked back down and helplessly stared at the deep slash of skin showing between Joan’s full breasts. How could this woman visit such indignities on her and yet still make her wet with desire? She knew that it wasn’t what normal people did, or accepted, but here they were and she did not want to leave.

Gathering her robe around her lithe frame Joan climbed onto the bed. Propping herself against the swell of pillows Joan gestured for Vera to join her, drawing her close when the small woman slipped alongside. She slid her arm around Vera’s narrow shoulders and turned on her side nudging Vera’s unbelted robe open with the single surviving rose to reveal the hatch marks of Vera’s lesson.   
“Why did you have to hurt me so badly?” she gazed up into Joan’s strangely contented face.  
Joan trailed the silken soft petals of a single stem across Vera’s reddened chest, teasing her bruised nipples, flicking down to her clit, gently stroking moist lips before returning to caress her sore breasts a little more.  
“’So badly’? Oh, Vera, you must know why….” Joan’s face was full of pity as she looked down at her deputy. “You were doing so well. Your growing self-control, your increased confidence with staff and inmates – you impressed me; what a shame you had to let yourself down again….” Joan traced a line of raised, angry skin with her little finger. “You let me down too you know? Surely you are aware that ‘we…’” her graceful hand fluttered between their two hearts “….happen on the condition that you accept my guidance and instruction?” The rose travelled back down Vera’s body, producing a gentle shiver that she tried to suppress before Joan rubbed it along her slit, working the head between her lips, spreading her abundant, aromatic wetness with the tight, slick bud. “That we function as a team because of the trust and understanding I’m trying to foster between us? US, Vera! We have never been run of the mill Corrections Officers, you and I, and together we could achieve things much greater than the sum of our parts, such wonderful things! We could dominate Wentworth!”  
“But…”  
The flower stopped in its tracks. “I am your Mentor am I not, Vera? I do want you to assert yourself, to develop your authority … but when I see you displaying misplaced confidence, when you question my methods - well….” She shrugged, holding her palms up in a gesture of hopelessness. ”You must learn to better choose your moments. Maybe you lack the judgement required for this role - I thought that you had developed your critical thinking but I’m not so sure now - your assessment remains flawed.” Joan looked away with apparent disinterest as Vera started to protest.   
“But…”   
“Vera?”  
“Can’t I please touch you? Properly I mean. You’ve no idea how hard it is having you so close, having you do those things to me and yet you expect me to behave like a robot!”  
She sighed deeply and turned back to Vera. “Vera, tonight was to be the first step towards teaching you how to please me. I know that you feel the need for greater intimacy between us but as with all instruction, it must be done incrementally, with understanding…but, Vera, if you insist on allowing your feelings to over-rule a given situation then you will incur my displeasure time and again; and eventually I will begin to consider the entire endeavour unworthy of my time and effort.”  
“But you marked me! Look, I’m bleeding!”  
She tutted at Vera’s whining. “A stray thorn or two, nothing serious. Scars remind us that we have endured, Vera, that we have survived, that we have overcome.” Joan’s tone became conciliatory. “You know, every experience teaches us a lesson. We may not know it at first but the learning will eventually reveal itself. Can you recognise and apply your learning to your environment, Vera? Will you let me take pride in your transformation?” Joan’s glittering eyes seemed to reach into Vera’s soul as they searched for her affirmation. “Can you?” She pressed the firm, silky bundle of petals into Vera’s clit.  
What lessons had Joan been taught and by whom? Vera wondered. Who had marked her body like that, and for what reason? But they were markers on her path to triumph, she had intimated as much just now. “Y-yes I can. I will. I really will try to do what’s right - for you. For us.” 

Releasing the slender stem Joan extricated her arm from beneath Vera and stood up yawning. “Well I’m ready for bed.” She replaced Vera’s gloves, the stockings and the rake in the box and locked it, pocketing the small key  
“So what do we do now? Can I clean up?”  
“You may sleep here in this room or you may go home if you think you can drive. If you chose to stay you may have the run of the house but, and this is very important, Vera, not my room. Do you understand, Vera?” Her fingers twitched as she stressed the rule. “My chamber is inviolable. I shall be exceptionally disappointed if you cannot follow that single condition.”   
“You mean you don’t sleep in here?”   
Joan snorted with laughter. “Dear me, no! I have different requirements.”  
She looked at Joan truculently “… And you won’t sleep in here with me if I stay the night.” It was a statement Vera realised without surprise, not a question.   
“Vera! Vera …. am I to have no privacy?” Exasperation crept into her voice.   
Joan’s reply stung Vera but she considered her options: if she went home then she would miss out on the opportunity of seeing more of Joan out of uniform and the chance to get to know her a little better - but if she went home to her mother, if she crept home to her small life….. “OK, message received. Just tell me which one is yours and I’ll leave you alone.”

Joan closed the door of her room and leant against its flawless matte surface, a self-congratulatory smile playing on her lips. “So, what do you think? Was I right?”  
“Promising, Joan. Very promising. I’m looking forward to seeing more from her. And it was a pleasure to see a little more of you too after all these months, those 4G pin-hole cameras are worth every cent!”  
Shedding her robe Joan crossed to the glowing pc monitor and sat down tucking a wayward strand of hair behind her ear, minimising the CCTV program she enlarged the VOIP screen. “Tell me, how is it going at Maidens Grange? Are they jockeying for position to replace their venerated Governor when she retires? Although no one could ever replace the great Margaret Ferguson, not even me.“  
The grey haired woman on the screen smiled warmly. “Joan, my dear, if I were able to choose my successor then it would be you - my namesake - my most beautiful and talented protégée of them all.”


End file.
